A little town called Hague

Summary: The little town of Hague and its surrounding areas share one wicked secret, which a stranded man and his two children discover the hard way.

The man from the Springs

“Coming down thick now Jim… Hope
everybody got their supplies in before Fonteyn Road builds up, this snow’s gonna
last for a good couple, you can tell...”

Jim didn’t look at him and continued
to wipe the bar, his dish rag so filthy it probably spread more germs then
killed them.

“Why’d you care?” Replied Jim, his
voice exhausted.

Paul stared at him, then down
into his cider as if it were a bottomless well he had heard his name called
from. Paul sighed and put the drink to his head, the yellow nectar flowed down
his throat. He slammed the glass down and wiped his mouth with his jumper sleeve.

“You’re right, I have all the
supplies I need here, give me another, and uh
pack of them nigger nuts.”

Jim stood straight and looked
over at him from the far side of the bar; his lips pressed together, his face thunder.
He shook his head and released a sigh.

“Why’d you have to lower the tone
Paul…?” Jim replied, unhooking a pack of chocolate covered peanuts from behind
the bar and sliding them over to him.

“Isn’t that the colour of their
balls? Watch one of them blue ones and tell me them peanuts aren’t the same
colour, minus the frizz…”

“I have a wife, I don’t watch filth
la- “Jim stopped before he said too much.

Paul looked at him his face
frozen in an expression that couldn’t be attributed to any one emotion.

“Sorry…” Jim said

“You will be” Paul replied in
jest, his brow dipped.

Jim smiled with nerves, glad Paul
hadn’t flown off the handle and span around the pub like a shell shot helicopter
fuelled with anger and cider. Paul could cause a lot of damage. He wasn’t just
big, he was enormous; his ass hung out of his trouser at every opportunity when
ever he sat, knelt or bent; his knuckles menacing, even when his palms were
flat.

Jim pulled him another cider and
Paul looked over his shoulder at the empty tables and chairs, normally filled
by the good people of Hague, especially on a Saturday night.

He looked out of the old wooden
framed windows crowned with silver crucifixes torn out bible pages and small
bottles of holy water. Outside was pitch
black, freckled by white snow coming down diagonal.

The TV up high in the corner
began to lose signal, till it went black and never came back No signal received it read.

Jim placed Paul’s cider down and
wiped his hand down the front of his T-shirt. Paul was slow to meet it, the
snow’s consistent flow almost hypnotic, sending him into a sort of trance.

“Paul!” Jim called for the third
time.

Paul span round; Jim pointed at
his drink.

“Where’d you think everyone is
tonight?” Paul asked.

Jim had turned to start counting
the takings from the first till. Paul took another slurp.

“Their beds, the same place I’m
going when you’ve finished that.” Jim replied

“Closing early then?”

“Too right I am, it’s not exactly
bustling in here is it.”

“Well I’m here aren’t I?”

Jim turned and placed the empty
plastic coin tray back into the till and moved down to the next one.

“As much as I appreciate your
custom Paul, your cider is hardly paying for the lights to be on.”

“Fine! Give me another pack of
them nigger nuts and some of those posh crisps”

Jim smiled with annoyance, having
lost count again.

“Hold on uh sec, you’re making me
lose count”

The door leading to flat above
the pub opened and his wife Fiona stepped out in her night gown and bed time scarf.
They both looked her over.

“Paul, Jim, there’s a man outside
walking up and down at the bottom of the street, he looks lost…”

Both Paul and Jim looked at her
as if she were speaking a foreign language. She looked from one to the other.

Jim looked at Paul.

“Do you mind?” Jim asked.

Paul nodded and stood, his head
almost touching the over hanging lights above, his shoulders wide and
uncompromising.

Fiona lifted the old wooden bar hatch
and went out behind him, two sides of her gown pinned together with one hand.
She followed Paul to the door. The moment Paul opened it, it was as if a giant
were screaming at the top of his lungs, the way the wind and snow pushed them
back in, who ever it was, they weren’t from Hague Paul thought.

It was so cold Fiona was forced
to abandon her spot and head right back to the bar shivering.

Paul continued to watch, the man
virtually walking in circles flanked by darkened shops closed from earlier, and
street lamps that pierced the night like stars. If only Jim had fixed that
hanging neon sign two years ago, the man would have seen the pub was open, even
at that distance.

Paul zipped up his coat, pulled
on his hat and erected his collar as if he were the Fonze from Happy days. He walked out and stood
under one of the lamps and waved with both arms, the man slowed, stopped, and
after a few seconds waved back and began to walk towards him.

Paul turned and walked back
inside the cheeks on both his face and ass freezing, going home was going to be
a bitch he thought. Uh real cold bitch…

Paul sat down at the bar reunited
with his drink.

“Well…” Jim asked.

“Well what?” Paul replied.

“Where is he?”

At that moment the door swung
open. Fiona, Jim and Paul turned to look.

Paul didn’t look up; instead he
shovelled more chocolate nuts into his face.

Jim gave the man a warm drink at
the bar and let him try the phone which couldn’t even muster a dialling tone,
let alone a call; their mobiles no better.

“What should I do?” The man asked,
his eyes welling up.

“My son is only three; I need to
get back to them tonight. Can you help?”

Fiona began to shake her head
before she even spoke.

“Sorry honey, the weather’s too
bad, that moor and roads around here have taken many uh life in weather not even
half as bad as this. Feel free to stay till the morning and we’ll drive you
back then.”

The man shook his head.

“I’m not leaving my children out
there…”

The pub fell silent once more. The
sound of the wind howling outside and the thought of even thinking about going
into the Springs sent a shiver down Jim’s spine, erecting hairs all over him, despite
the thought of the man’s children stuck out there alone and vulnerable, disturbing
him something rotten.

Jim sighed.

“Look, just direct me back down to
the moor and I’ll go over myself. Can you do that at least?”

Jim looked at Paul and Paul
looked at Fiona.

Jim agreed and Paul called him
crazy and a few other colourful words.

Fiona went upstairs and gathered
a pair of Jim’s hiking boots, thermal wear, hat, gloves and under garments for
the man.

As the man got dressed in the
toilets; Paul and Fiona spoke to Jim.

“Don’t do it, insist he stay, it
isn’t too late.” Fiona said, pleading with her husband.

“I’m just showing him back to the moor, I’m
not going anywhere near the Springs, we’d want someone to at least do that for
us right?” Jim said looking at the pair, they looking every which way but at
him.

“Yes or no?” Jim demanded.

Paul shook his head.

“You and I know them kids are
finished, you’re walking this bloke to his death.” Paul added.

“You don’t know that, he made it
this far, how do you know he won’t make it back?”

Paul laughed.

“He might make it there, then
what? Face it Jim, his blood will be on your hands, plain and simple”

The wind blew the door clean open
as if Satan himself had entered. Snow scattered the floor till it shut. Jim’s
heart beat heavy.

The man emerged from the toilet
looking two stones heavier with Jim’s gear on.

They didn’t dally; Jim wanted
shot of him, his story and any mention of that damn town.

He took a kitchen blade and
stuffed it down his waist band; he also took two small bibles and two small crucifixes
from behind the counter. Shops and pubs in Hague, unlike most other places,
kept bibles and crucifixes under the counter as opposed to baseball bats or
knives, the nature of the threat somewhat different in these parts.

The pair went out and walked down
the centre of the road the snow up to their calves, the shops either side of
them, kebab, off licences etc normally full of life, now looked like hollow
store carcasses of an abandoned ghost town.

The wind pushed against the pair,
their walking greatly impaired, and then it dawned on Jim that Paul was right, this
man would die for sure. Either by the elements or something
within that God-forsaken town.

Fifteen miles in this…Jim thought…Yet, he knew telling the man, as a
parent, that his mission was doomed was harder than letting him go.

Get him to the moor and head
straight back he chanted over and over in his head. After what should have been
a five minute walk, twenty minutes later they were finally at the moor’s edge;
its length so vast and black, it was as if they stood where the earth met space.
The black so thick it would be hard for anything or anyone out there to see
properly.

The pair stopped just before the
walkway that took you out across the moor.

Jim took from out of his jacket
the bible and crucifix and held it out for the man to receive, Jim shouted
above the wind.

“Take this, you’ll need it and
God bless you and your children”

The man looked at the items
offered and shook his head.

“Are you serious!?” The man
shouted

“Yes!” Jim replied even louder

They both stared at each other
the man swallowed and took the items reluctantly “This is absolutely preposterous!”
The man shouted

They enjoyed another pause; the
man looked as if he had grown cold feet.

“Litsen! Go straight and if
anybody begins to call you and it sounds like a song run and hold your bible
and crucifix ahead of you, don’t stop and don’t look at them”

The man stared at Jim, fear
building within him; his eyes light hazel and blood shot.

The man shook his head and took
the first step out into the darkness, the snow up to his knees, hitting him at
speed, wind pushing him this way and that. The man walked on, striding for his
children.

Jim crossed him self and didn’t
linger. He made his way back virtually running. He slammed open the doors of
the pub, Paul turned on his stool to watch him. Fiona rushed to her husband.

Paul stayed in the guest room
that night, none of them got a winks sleep, not even a minute, Jim the worst. The
vision of that man walking out into the darkness playing over and over, the man
walking into certain death, or worse the Springs, where he may be made to live
forever with that wretched eternal thirst.

After a week the snow had
subsided and Hague was back to normal. It was Saturday night and the pub was
full, laughter and drinking as usual. Paul burst through the doors and walked
right up to the bar, his size thirteen boots making music across the
floorboards.

He hitched up at the counter and
placed a newspaper down on it open at page ten, the face of the man and his two
children looked up happy and smiling.

Missing it read – ‘Can you help us find Phillip Burns and his two
children Emma and Fredrick Burns last seen heading towards Slain Town on the
13/08/2015?’

Both he and Jim inspected it and
said nothing verbally but their eyes spoke, like most people in the Hague smiling and
laughing with their face but their eyes always aware, cautious, communicating
at frequencies out-of-towners like Phillip Burns couldn’t.

Paul closed the paper.

“It’s that turning, people always
get it wrong and head into the Springs” Jim insisted

“It’s as if it’s deliberate I
swear…” Jim added.

Paul nodded in agreement.

“Well the Springs has to feed Jim,
and I’d rather it be them than the good people of Hague” Paul said lifting his
glass in tradition, but by then Jim had walked away and was serving someone
else.

A few weeks later after Jim had
locked up and sent the drunks home to their wives, he went up to his. He
brushed his teeth, washed his face and said his prayers. He went into his
bedroom where Fiona slept, sipping air softly.

The shop strip was deadly silent outside,
except for what sounded like singing, soft and delicate; it carried across the
cool autumn night in the distance getting closer. Jim knew the sound and patted
him self down frantically for his ear plugs but couldn’t find them, then his
brain slowed and against his will, to the window he went as if remote
controlled.

He peeked out to his left nothing; but to his right, walking
towards the pub were three figures. The small and medium figures were obviously
children, illuminated under the street lamps and darkened in-between each post
at intervals.

The biggest lagged behind, Jim
knew him for sure, even though he couldn’t make out his face fully, any man could
surly recognise his own clothes.

Jim tried sloppily to pat him
self down for the ear plugs once more, the ones he had obviously left down
stairs in the pub. His wife and the rest of Hague slept on, immune to their
call, the infectious song sang by vamperic sirens, sweet so, so sweet…So
beautiful Jim had to hear it closer. He went down stairs, his feet bare, dignity
forgotten. Out Jim went into the street to welcome Phillip Burns and kids back
from across the moor, back from the Springs.

Write a Review
Did you enjoy my story? Please let me know what you think by leaving a review! Thanks,
RPFalconer

E_W_Hemmings:
First of all, sorry this review took so long: I've had science mocks recently and then when I came to read this, I made notes to put in the review like I usually do... but then I deleted them. Well done me. As a result, this review is a bit more general than most reviews I write, but hey ho, let'...

Kayla Wentz:
This book had me hooked from the beginning! I kept coming back for more. It only took me a day to read! I couldn't put it down! Absolutely A-Mazing! This book keep the story going and there's never a dull moment!

Kiz16:
After a truly shocking start to the story, I found the style and content slowed down as the author introduced a varied group of characters who I thought were fleshed out very well. After a slow couple of chapters, I found this story difficult to leave with the tension growing within the house. Yo...

Alex Rushmer:
I like the intrigue that you introduce from the very beginning of the story. The idea of the girl waking up in the alley with no memory of how she got there and with injuries is very interesting. It was very well done. There were a lot of grammatical errors that need to be fixed though. I think t...

Bradley Darewood:
I really really really liked this. I just voted for you!The voice is flawless-- I can't write men as well as you do and I have a penis. Maybe I'm narcissistic but I particularly enjoyed the moment where he muses about how artists would do better in such a solitary job. But my favorite moment ...

Anehalia:
This review is for the first chapter:I struggled to get through the first couple of paragraphs. The first couple of paragraphs were all setting detail without any introduction of characters. The description of the setting used repetitive words and had some tense mix up for words. It made for a ve...

skippybash12:
This story has engaging characters that you care about and a plot that is unpredictable and exciting. It is well written with a believable voice. Great weekend escape and if there was a sequel available I would buy it today -

Someone:
This was a fun, entertaining read. Although the novel wasn’t stylistically polished, and although the first couple of chapters struggled to hold my attention, the rest of the novel was engaging and beautifully done. You had me fooled until the end. The rest of this review will contain spoilers fo...

JanThompson:
This book gives a beautiful description of a country which one rarely gets to see. The contrast between rich and poor is very evident too.The storyline actually sheds a compelling light on why women in certain countries sell themselves just to help their families or even to survive themselves. I ...

:
The book was hella great. You never know what's going to happen next. There's a lot of clues that shows to the next scene. I thought Miley and David would marry each other in this book but too my disappointment, they didn't. I have a ques. Will there be a part two to this book?